Dresser Drawer
by moodiful819
Summary: A collection of my Kakasaku gift-fics and stories from my tumblr. Chapter 8: Sometimes, it was good to be Hokage.
1. Overdue

**A/N:** This all started about three days ago when serenity-touched posted this fanart of Kakashi in glasses, which spawned a bunny, which sparked a fic to feed her cravings for Kakashi-in-glasses stuff. There are two more parts to this which are already posted on my tumblr. Actually, all of the fics in this collection will be gift-fics or fics from my tumblr that I wrote for other people's stuff. Enjoy!

* * *

Title: Overdue  
Genre: Humor/Romance  
Rating: T  
Word Count: 1,685  
Summary: Books weren't the only thing Sakura was checking out at the library.

.

.

.

With a sigh and a moan, Sakura smeared her weary hand over her face. It had been a long day—a long series of days, weeks, maybe even months at this point—but whatever it was, it had been _long._ She couldn't tell time at this point; why lie? The days had obviously blurred together.

Well, point was that she had been studying for her upcoming medical exam for a while which, if she passed, would put her on the same level as some of the most skilled medics in the hospital. The pressure she felt was understandable, and perhaps a bit exaggerated on her part since she had basically lived in the library for at least the past two weeks, day in and day out. She only went home to sleep at closing, eating only between shifts at the hospital and as she headed back to the library in the morning for more studying. She felt like a wreck (and probably looked the part), but if she passed this test, it would all be worth it.

Besides…

"I think I'm ready," the kunoichi told herself firmly with an echoing thud as the thick tome clamped shut under her hand. It had taken a few weeks, a good chunk of her sanity, and probably a good ten pounds off her overall body weight, but the last hurdle of her studying was over. She had everything prepared for the research portion of the oral part of her exam. All she needed to do now was brush up a bit on her cellular theory, remember the less-common metals that could be used in medical treatments, and prepare an outline for each of the five possible oral-presentation topics and she would be as good as gold.

Or at least, she hoped she would be. It would suck if she had to retake this test after all the work she did to pass this stupid thing the first time through.

Pushing her chair back, Sakura laced her fingers together and, getting on the tips of her toes, stretched up and back with a languorous sigh as the bones in her spine popped and the tension in her back melted away. Satisfied, she began piling the huge medical tomes she had retrieved and began walking back to the medical reference section of the library.

As she walked, Sakura drank in the silence. It wasn't as if it was strange—libraries were quiet by nature—but it was the first time in a while that she had been able to appreciate the still calm of the shelves around her. The mustiness of aged paper and fermented ink wasn't nearly so off-putting when she wasn't face-first in it, and she slowed her steps to enjoy the feel of her shoes sinking into the plush maroon carpet beneath her feet. Yes, it was nice to have this moment to herself; to have this quiet morning moment alone.

Or at least, she thought she had been alone until she spied a man hunched over one of the library's table. Apparently she wasn't the only one appreciating the rarely-used library of their village this morning.

Quickly, Sakura retreated back behind the shelf she had been passing. It wasn't like her to be afraid, and the fact she was hiding was made stupider by her reminder to herself that the library was a public space, and just because she had been living in it like a hermit, it did not grant her sole ownership of the place. Quietly, she stole a glance around the corner of the shelf to see if her companion had noticed her peculiar behavior, only to get distracted from his face to somewhere much further south.

Her eyes bulged from their sockets. _'Oh…my…'_

Somewhere in a place far, far, fa-a-a-ar away in the back of her mind not devoted to her current visual occupation, Sakura knew she should be ashamed of herself for ogling the ass of a stranger. This poor guy had no idea that someone was intruding on his moment of privacy, no clue that he was being checked out like one of the books around him, but his butt was just…_amazing._

A girl could get used to a view like that.

With a slow, appraising eye, Sakura shifted her gaze downward to sweep over his long legs. He was a shinobi for sure. No one could have that kind of chiseled sculpting to their backside short of an addiction to running marathons, and the presence of a ninja uniform just cinched it. However, that was just an afterthought as she continued to drag her eyes down the lengths of his legs. He had long legs for sure, but in his current position stooped over the edge of the table, forearms pressed into the wood and feet planted firmly into the carpet beneath him, his legs seemed to go for miles.

When he shifted his feet (shifting that firm masterpiece in the process), Sakura tugged uncomfortably at the collar of the shirt she had pulled on that morning. Despite the tight hold winter still held on the spring air outside, it now seemed too hot for her lab coat, and suddenly she regretted not doing more for her appearance that morning. The messy bun on top of her head and the frame of her reading glasses drooped in shame.

Still, it did little to stop her from stealing another look at the mystery man. If anything, she could probably rush out, shower, and come back before he noticed anything, she told herself as she moved her gaze higher this time.

He stood in an alcove of one of the more deserted sections of the library. From a window above a fading "Ancient Philosophy" sign, light filtered over him, casting him in a muted light. Still, she could make out his hair color—a pale silver, perhaps even a bluish-white?—that fell unevenly around his head. The longest of it grazed his shoulders, and from where she stood, she could see the slight, dark protrusion of a glasses-frame stark against his cheek and the top of his ear. His head shifted slightly from side-to-side, deeply-engrossed in his literary diversion as she watched his lips move, his mouth following along with his eyes.

In a distant part of her brain, she wondered to herself why her companion didn't just sit down and read. As painful as it would be to lose such a view, it seemed like it was equally painful to stand leaning against the table like that. However, the thought that perhaps it was even more uncomfortable to sit down crossed her mind. He did seem rather tall after all, and she couldn't help the slight thrill that ran through her at the thought. She did have a preference for taller guys, after all.

Following the wide expanse of his shoulders down to the neat trimness of his waist, she followed the line of the table to the book beneath his hands. Any skilled shinobi would've noticed her presence by now, and she wondered what could be so engrossing that he couldn't bear to tear his attention away, only for a familiar tacky orange to meet her eyes.

Her jaw dropped in titillated disbelief. The Icha-Icha series was definitely one of the more adventurous adult series available, and she could only wonder what this man was doing reading such smut so early in the morning in such a public (if still somewhat private) space. She could only hope that she could help him out when he decided to practice the things in the book.

Excited and curious, Sakura leaned even further to get a better look at the man so she could find him later if she missed him upon her return from the shower. Unfortunately, she had been so busy trying to catch a glimpse of his face that she had forgot about the extra forty pounds in her front and stumbled against the shelf with a clatter and a loud, pained hiss as she stubbed her toe on the corner of the shelf. So much for being quiet.

Quickly, she dropped to her knees and began picking up the books on the floor. Maybe if she was fast enough, she could still sneak away with her pride mostly intact, but it was too late. He had heard the noise and turned around. He was staring straight at her.

"Sakura?"

She froze. Instantly, the twins denial and dread reached up to tug at her heart. _'Please don't be him. Please don't be him. Pleasedon'tbehim,'_ she begged.

Slowly, she turned her head and found herself face-to-face with former teacher.

"Kakashi-sensei! What are you doing here?" she smiled tightly as he seated himself on the table.

"I was just doing some light reading," he said with his pair of reading glasses still perched primly on his nose. That's why she didn't recognize him. There was no headband to shove his hair up into that ridiculous gravity-defying style he always had. Gently, he closed the book still on the table. "What about you? I heard about your upcoming exam. Did you finish studying?" he asked pointing at the stack of thick tomes in her arm.

"Y-yup! Yup! Yup! I just finished studying and now I'm going to go put these back and study some more at home!" she laughed nervously.

"A-alright…don't study too hard. Remember to take care of yourself. Get some fresh air from time to time," he told her, but she was already in the process of running away from him because oh Kami-sama, she had just checked out her ex-sensei. She had just checked out Kakashi's ass and fantasized about him.

Pushing her feet into double-time, she shook her head to dispel any lingering attraction she felt out of her system. It was the lack of sleep and social contact. She was delirious with hunger. It was all her studying-marathon's fault that this happened. Before this, Kakashi had been the last person on her radar and it was only because she was crazy and stressed-out that she had checked him out, but it did nothing to help her situation because she had still thought he was hot. She had honestly and truly thought he was hot, and checked him out—like _checked him out_-checked him out—and just—_ugh!_

Tiredly, she dragged a hand over her face.

She really needed to get out more.


	2. Distractions

Title: Distractions  
Genre: Humor/Romance  
Rating: T  
Word Count: 883  
Summary: After she finished her exam, she would go adopt a cat or take up a hobby. Anything would be better than fantasizing about her former teacher.

Sequel to "Overdue."

* * *

With a sigh and a groan, Sakura sank petulant and sulking into her seat. Her exam was in two weeks, and having heard of her predicament, her team had taken it upon themselves to help her study_—"Ohana means family, Sakura! And family means nobody gets left behind!"_ Naruto had screamed at her, no doubt still suffering the after-effects of yet another Disney-movie binge—but while the offer was nice (really, it was), since her team was, well…_her team_, she had deemed it safest to choose Kakashi as her study partner, and it was his offer of help that she had accepted.

Only now, she was beginning to regret her decision.

Now, it wasn't because of any fault on his part. He remained the perfect study partner for the very reasons she had chosen him for: quiet, helpful, intelligent, and focused; he wasn't distracting in the slightest.

Except he was.

Because Sakura couldn't focus at all. Instead of cramming medical terms into her skull until it exploded, her mind was still trying to deal with the fact that she had found her former teacher attractive and was still finding him attractive.

Sakura bit the flesh of her thumb in agitation. _'It's those stupid glasses,'_ she cursed to herself. While she was able to forgive herself the first time since his back had been turned to her (making identification difficult), he was now seated across from her and staring her right in the face. This was Kakashi, her tall, lanky, perverted former teacher. She shouldn't have been finding him attractive at all!

But here she was, staring at him like a lovesick teenager, because unfortunately for her, his front was proving to be just as hot as his back. It was stupid, she knew. She still hadn't even seen what he had looked like under the mask, but _his glasses!_ The way they sat on his high cheekbones, the way the frames worked with his face gave him an older, more mature look (which was ridiculous because he was already older than her and by no means more mature), and she inwardly cursed at her luck. Ever since Ino had gotten her started on a new television drama where the main character was a hot doctor with glasses, she had developed a thing for glasses and the serious, scholarly look they lent.

And now, here she was with the still-strange non-stranger she had been checking out a few days ago as her study partner when studying was the last thing on her mind. What was worse was that he wouldn't leave. She had told Kakashi that she would've been fine on her own today and to just go home, but he refused and cited something about making sure she ate something other than that piece of toast she'd stuffed into her mouth this morning (really, he was probably just waiting to score a free meal off her when the library closed). Now she was stuck with him and his stupid face. His stupid, distracting face because his prescription was so mild that reading glasses were _more_ than an option for him and it was unfair how well he looked in his new frames. While the other pair had a black rectangular frame that had surrounded each lens, his new pair was smaller and had done away with the top bar of each lens frame, softening his brows. Now instead of looking like a hot bookworm—which he pretty much was at this point with his nose jammed into Icha Icha everyday—he looked like a hot, classy businessman or college professor. _Kakashi-sensei indeed._

But of course, that kind of thinking wasn't conducive to her current situation given that she was supposed to be _studying _for her _**upcoming medical exam**_ instead of fantasizing about her studying partner, and she really needed to focus on things other than how good he looked with his glasses on and his hair down, and wondering what his bedroom eyes would look like framed by those glasses of his, and—

"—kura. Sakura. _Sakura!"_

The pink-haired kunoichi jarred in her seat and met the concerned look of her silver-haired teacher as he let go of her arm and slowly sat back down. "Huh?" she answered eloquently.

"Are you alright, Sakura?" His lips firmed into a thin line. "You seem distracted."

"Huh? Oh, I'm fine! Fine. Fine. Fine," she waved dismissively.

"Are you sure? Because I repeated that question three times—"

"I'm fine."

"—and you didn't respond. We can take a break if you want. All work and no play make for dull kunoichi, after all—"

"Kakashi, _I'm fine,"_ she lied because it was less embarrassing than telling him the truth. Slowly, she rubbed at the migraine pressing at her temples and tried to find where she had left off in the giant reference book. However, she knew it would be useless. Her focus had been shot; nothing would get done tonight and instead, she would spend another sleepless night making up for the time lost to the ridiculous fantasies she had about her ex-sensei and his gorgeous glasses-framed face and his distracting masterpiece of an ass.

Staring at the (minimum) five-hours-worth of work that had accumulated beneath her nose, she glared down at the book. Stupid sexy Kakashi.


	3. Release

Title: Release  
Genre: Humor/Romance  
Rating: T  
Word Count: 1,361  
Summary: On the third day of exams, Sakura snaps.

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews so far! Here is part three of serenity-touched's gift. Fun fact: this was originally going to be the last part. Aren't you glad there's going to be more?

* * *

After days of studying and fantasizing, Sakura finally snaps.

It's the third day of her exams. Earlier that day, she finishes the written portion of her exam. Tomorrow is a break between tests, meant to give the proctors time to grade the essays and give the students a final chance to prepare for the last portion of the medical exam: the oral exam. By now, Sakura has been living off a diet of coffee, dry (possibly stale) bagels, and fermented ink. Her hands are still in a rictus of cramping aches, and pencil smudges from her notes still trail on the sides of her hands. She's tired—_exhausted_—but most of all, she's angry.

Because she almost didn't finish her essays on time. Her jaw firms as her fists pound her thighs.

"Stupid Kakashi!" she says through gritted teeth because that jerk—that stupid, sexy, distracting jerk—had wormed himself into her head while she was taking her test. These kinds of tests were her thing! Back in the Academy, she had always been the first to finish, but instead she had trailed near the end because images of the silver-haired nin kept popping up in her head during the test. For Kami's sake, she spent fifteen minutes alone just crossing out the same lines over and over again because she kept writing "hot ass" and "hot glasses" instead of "hot ash"—not to mention the five-minutes she spent fighting (enjoying) a fantasy of her being seduced by the older man in the library alcove.

But that time is over now, and all she wants to do is crawl back into bed. She's scheduled to have a study session with Kakashi later today, but she is tired and her eyelids droop and her head is suddenly a heavy weight on her shoulders. Responsibility beckons in her ear; she needs to put in some review before Kakashi comes, needs to make some progress before she is once again hopelessly distracted by some other part of his anatomy, but her bed whispers conspiringly in her ear. With promises of soft pillows and a place to lay her troubled, weary head down, it calls to her like a siren's song. It's not even a contest in her mind as she sheds her boots and stumbles blearily towards her room. She has earned it; she has worked hard these past few weeks, diligently making up where her fantasies have caused her to stumble and fail. If she thought about it, she was merely claiming what was hers long overdue.

She feels her brain waves slow before her head even finishes making contact with her bed. Sleep will come swift and mercifully soon, but for a brief second, regret twinges in the center of her brain. However, as soon as it comes, it is snuffed out. Kakashi isn't due for another two hours, a voice in her head reasons as it gently smoothes away the wrinkles in her brow, plenty of time for her to rest and wake up to meet her study partner. In fact, she'll even get up early and make coffee for the both of them before he arrives.

And besides, it's just a nap, she tells herself. What could possibly go wrong?

Besides, she can already feel dream creep upon her. It covers her, comforting her like a blanket on a winter's day. In the back of her mind, she wonders what the dream will be, only to find herself in the familiar setting of Konoha's library. Her wrists are bound together, and instantly, Sakura knows what is happening. She should, anyway. She had this fantasy an hour ago.

Her eyes flash as they meet a familiar bi-colored stare through glass, and her lips curve challengingly in response to his smug smirk. Below it is the opened collar of his button-up shirt, the tie conspicuously missing. When she shifts her arms experimentally, he smiles at her beguilingly. They both know she could easily snap her silk bindings if she wanted to, but he'd rather her not. However, last time they played by his rules, he hadn't touched her. Or at least, not the way she wanted. Not the heated substantial electricity she needed. The closest to risqué he had come was when his fingers had skirted the hem of her bindings. Otherwise, it was only the borders where her shirt had left her skin exposed, pressing only enough to feel, but not satisfy.

He peers over his glasses at her, the shadows of mirth playing in his gaze. They would continue their game where they had left off, it appeared, and he crouches in front of her, his face hovering by hers. He is close enough to touch, but not. He thinks it'll stay that way, and he smiles at her, assured in the knowledge that she will submit once again to his delicious torture.

Only Sakura is done playing his game, and has been done for days. Even as a girl, patience had never really been her strong suit, and while age has tempered the influence, it has not snuffed it out completely. Rather, it has become like a wire pulled taut. Tension is coiling in her bones, and she hears her restraint creaking in her ears. The time for teasing is over. She wants satisfaction, and she wants him. _Now._

Snapping free of her bonds, she plunges her fist into the collar of his jacket and pulls him in. At long last, she's taking what's hers.

* * *

He was an idiot.

This is the thought running through Kakashi's head as he runs from rooftop to rooftop, dashing down drainpipes and flipping over fire escapes. He was supposed to meet with Sakura an hour ago—had planned to meet her and be on time and everything—but what had started as a simple meeting with Tenzou soon devolves into a meeting of the Team 7 males that spills into an impromptu training session. He is annoyed with his teammates, and furious with himself for his tardiness. He only hopes his female teammate isn't too furious herself.

Bounding onto her balcony, he aims to leap once more before landing on the doorstep of her apartment when he spies a pair of feet framed by the window. Leaning back to peer around the curtain, his suspicions are confirmed.

Quickly disarming the traps lining her window, he carefully steals inside. He is upon her sleeping form in two steps. His absence, it seems, has gone unnoticed. At the prospect of not having to dodge her angry fists, relief settles over him, but it soon finds itself not alone as a vague regret shares its space. As he looks upon the pink-haired girl's sleeping figure, hesitation restrains his actions. He knows that she hasn't been getting much sleep lately, but he is here for a reason. He knows what he must do.

Ignoring the slight twinge of guilt in his chest, he gently places his hand on her shoulder. "Sakura. Sakura, wake up," he whispers…

Only to find her fist buried in his jounin vest and her tongue forcing its way into his masked mouth. A strangled noise of surprise rumbles from his throat, loud enough to wake her it seems because suddenly her eyes are open and he can see the faint ticking of gears in motion in her head.

Red and awake, she shrieks. _"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"_ she screams, throwing pillows, books, kunai—anything she can get her hands on at him. Fearing for his safety, he obediently does what he is told, and exits her apartment in a rush.

Only when he is an entire neighborhood away does he realize that he had taken the long way out of her apartment, leaving via the front door rather than the window he had entered, and that his entire purpose for going there is now defeated. However, all of this is eclipsed by the mixed feelings of worry and confusion he feels in response to Sakura's actions. Perplexed, he touches his fingers to his lips, and wonders alone on a rooftop at the cause of Sakura's sudden outburst.

Had it been something he said?


	4. Encounter

Title: Encounter  
Rating: T  
Genre: Humor/Romance  
Word Count: 1,931  
Summary: If this was some higher power's idea of a blessing, it had a sick sense of humor.

**A/N:** Start of the second arc of serenity-touched's gift. Also dedicated to dimisfit. Happy Valentine's Day!

* * *

"You did what to her?!"

At Naruto's loud exclamation, Kakashi frowned into the beer he was nursing. The table next to them peered around the edge of their booth curiously, and Kakashi let a disarming smile paint his lips before pulling back into a frown at the blonde's—frankly unnecessary—high volume. He had brought them together in hopes of discovering the root for Sakura's recent odd behavior, but as he stared at the myriad of shocked, confused, and hopelessly ambivalent faces before him, he found himself regretting his choice.

"I didn't do anything. She kissed me," Kakashi explained absently as he rubbed at his forming migraine, though he figured that it was to be a given. Briefly, in the back of his head, he wondered why he had thought coming to Team 7 about this had ever been a good idea. The only silver lining was that the member in question was not here and Tenzou had been called away on a mission a few days before. It was probably a terrible thing to think about Yamato, but Kakashi had the sneaking suspicion that the Mokuton user would either have kept nervously tight-lipped and floated an awkward tension around him when the team was gathered, or he would pester him relentlessly like a nosy aunt. With his luck, it was probably a combination of both.

His head sank dejectedly for a second, his sigh rippling the amber liquid in his glass. Raising his head up, he found Naruto recovered, the boy's face hovering eagerly near his.

"So…" he leaned in conspiringly, _"…was there tongue?"_

"Naruto, I hardly think that's appropriate to ask—"

"Oh my god, there _was_ tongue!" he gushed, sounding too close to those teenage girls Kakashi saw from time to time in movies. His forehead met his hand in exasperation, and he braced for the barrage of questions soon to come from his curious blonde gossipy harpy of a student.

"I knew this was a bad idea," he mumbled to himself tiredly. "Naruto, forget the tongue. I asked you guys to meet me because I'm worried about Sakura. She's not acting like she normally does, and I'm worried that something might be the matter with her and—"

"She likes you."

The silver-haired nin paused mid-sentence and stared incredulously at the speaker. "What?"

At his teacher's gaze, Sasuke gave a careless shrug and sipped his beer. "She likes you. It's obvious," he repeated mildly before shifting his gaze to the side once more.

Beside him, Sai gave a crisp nod. "I agree with the traitor. One of my acquaintances was a proctor for the bar exam and he asked me if the hag was okay because she kept crossing out things on her paper. Apparently, she admires your ass a lot, and your glasses," he replied glibly.

Kakashi sat back in his seat, mulling over the information. He had noticed Sakura's distractedness during their study sessions, but he had thought the cause was just stress from her upcoming exam. He would've never attributed to himself to the cause, and even now, there was still a vague disbelief. He couldn't believe it was true; Sakura couldn't like him.

But what if she did?

This was the thought on his mind on the relatively-short walk home. Hands in his pocket, the question stewed with each step. After all, she wasn't a little girl anymore, and at twenty years old, the pink-haired medic had developed into a strong, smart, highly-capable kunoichi. She had become someone who he was proud to call a comrade.

But just because he'd seen her grow up, it didn't mean he had actually _seen_ her grow up. For the past eight years of her life, Kakashi had viewed her as someone without gender, and any comments he made about her growth were akin to the quaint encouraging admirations he gave his potted plant as he watched it mature. Even when the last echoes of puberty were settling into her form, he had observed the formations of her curves with as absent a notice as when Mr. Ukki's leaves began to fan wide under the sun. She may have grown into a woman, but he was more concerned about her growth as a person than a member of the opposite sex.

So suppose he did decide to view her as a woman? It wouldn't be that difficult a leap given the fact that she was legal—if anything, he owed it to her to acknowledge that aspect of her—and it wasn't as if he was completely adverse to the idea. She was, objectively speaking, attractive, and he knew many around him considered her quite a catch. He would be quite lucky if it turned out she was attracted to him, but only if. This could have been another elaborate hare-brained scheme of his team's, after all.

He shrugged to himself at his door. He supposed he would find out the answer when he asked her. After all, who better to ask than the source?

And if it did turn out that his pink-haired student had a crush on him, then maybe he would be moved to some sort of action.

After all, stranger things have happened.

* * *

With a groan and a thud, Sakura collapsed face-first into her mattress. It was afternoon, early afternoon. On the other side of the village, Academy children were still training for careers as ninja; it was too early to be contemplating sleep, a small part of her reasoned, not while kids were still running around and the sun was still out.

However, a larger part of her could not care less. After two days of back-to-back shifts at the hospital and short, jerky bouts of sleep on uncomfortable hospital cots in the break room, this was the perfect time to sleep as far as she was concerned. The only silver-lining to the sudden increase of back-breaking toil she had been subjected to was that the cause in her sudden increase in demand was because of her recent promotion in rank.

That's right. Despite constant distraction, losing sleep, repeatedly writing about hot asses on her essay, and becoming a hot mess in general, Sakura had managed to pass her exams; and after days of hard work, she planned on celebrating the best way she knew how: face-first in a puddle of her own drool as she took in a well-deserved rest. She hadn't even bothered changing out of her nursing uniform. There hadn't been time anyway, not when she felt the warm embrace of her sheets pulling her under…

At least, until she felt a breeze roll in from the window she distinctly remembered being closed. Her hand sought the kunai she kept beneath her pillow. Metal clutched tightly in her fist, she spun to meet her intruder and found herself staring at the masked figure of her teacher as he leaned on her vanity.

"Yo," he greeted, and if it wasn't for the fact that Sakura had a knife in her hand, she would've slapped her hands to her face. Kami, did no one know about doors or doorbells anymore?

"You better have a good reason for being here," she grumbled sluggishly, her mind already ticking away at the minutes of her life that would be spent resetting the traps on her window as she set the kunai down. Inwardly, she regretted not spending the extra money for exploding tags on her balcony.

"In a way. I've been looking for you for days. You're a hard person to find," he commented idly as he closed the colorful novel in his hands, this time green.

"I've been busy," she retorted snappishly, sweeping the loose strands of her hair from her face with an aggravated pout. Was this going to take long? Because she had things to do, important things to do like drown her face in her pillows.

Palms flat on her vanity, Kakashi crossed his feet and reclined with the lazy superiority of a cat. Pocketing his reading glasses, he decided to cut straight to the chase. "I heard you liked me."

Catching onto his words, Sakura snapped her mournful gaze from his chest pocket to stare at his face, flabbergasted.

"Pfft. What? _No!"_ she dismissed, a bit more loudly than necessary as her hand inched its way back towards the kunai. The phrase "Death before dishonor" came to mind. "Me like—w-whatever gave you that idea?"

"Besides the fact you tried to shove your tongue into my mouth in your sleep? I heard you were repeatedly worshipping my backside in your medical essay. My glasses too. Am I really that attractive with my glasses on?"

"I crossed those out! Those proctors were supposed to ignore it!" she argued, only belatedly realizing her mistake as a smirk met her eyes. He advanced.

"So you do admit it then?" he asked with amused curiosity.

Sakura weakly held her arms out in a gesture to stop him.

"L-listen, we can just forget it ever happened. I mean, I was tired and I didn't know it was you in the library, and looking back, it was stupid to begin with. Just a stupid little crush really—I'll get over it in no time—_and really, what are a few sexual fantasies between friends, right?_ Besides, it's not like you'd ever like me back because that'd be silly. As silly as this conversation," she dismissed, scooting back against her headboard to keep a safe distance between them. Of course, it didn't seem like he got the memo as he continued to creep over her bed, much like another fantasy she'd had that involved a rope and a blindfold and an ice cube or two. Looking over his shoulder, she got an eyeful of that wonderfully sculpted ass of his in the mirror.

"I'm not so sure," he replied languidly. "I'd be up to try it if you were."

Sakura blinked her eyes disbelievingly, tearing her eyes away from the glass so quickly she swore she heard her optic nerves snap back into place. "What?" she breathed as his face hovered just over hers and his fingers sought out the pulse points of her wrists in the sheets.

"I'm not that adverse to the idea. I'd be willing to give us a shot," he admitted casually with a shrug of his shoulder, like he had just decided between chocolate and vanilla ice cream rather than accepting her embarrassing crush on him and indirectly asking her out in her bed after weeks of dirty daydreaming and a grueling stint at work that left her gross and delirious and un-showered and not at all ready for this kind of confession.

She stared up at him in disbelief. Surely, this was some kind of big cosmic joke.

But his hands were still gently grasping her wrists, tracing idle, amused patterns in her skin. No doubt, he'd felt the erratic heartbeat signaling her panic, but if he noticed, he didn't say anything, which of course made her panic even more because this couldn't be real. This wasn't happening because this was too good, too humiliating—_too mortifying_ to be true. It couldn't be real.

But his hands continued to linger near hers, and a corner of his mouth had been lifted reassuringly. This was indeed real, it seemed to say. She would be getting what she wanted.

Then, to make matters worse, he asked, "So just out of curiosity, what were some of your fantasies of me?"

Sakura didn't know whether to cry or punch him in the face.


	5. Bargain

Title: Bargain  
Genre: Humor/Romance  
Rating: T  
Word Count: 1,439  
Summary: "You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses, would you?"

A/N: Part 5 of the Kakashi-in-Glasses series. Next one is the last installment.

* * *

It was a sunny Monday morning when Sakura sat in the bedroom reading a magazine.

It was quiet. Library-quiet, but the pink-haired medic didn't mind the silence, too used to the blaring alarms, frantic screams, and agonized moans of the hospital. Banal as the scene may have been, Sakura enjoyed it. In fact, she thought it was the perfect background to her day off from work, and stroking the glossy paper in her lap admiringly, settled further into her seat…

Only to feel fingers at her shoulders.

Instantly, her lungs seized inside her chest; her heart raced. Cursing under her breath for letting her guard down, her mind raced instinctively through boards and boards of response-plans. Escape at this distance was unlikely, but _counterattack…_ Her eyes flickered towards the kunai stashed under the desk drawer as she charged chakra to her fingertips. _If she was going to die today, she wasn't going down without a fight._

She gritted her teeth for the brutal head-butt that she hoped would hit…

Only for a familiar warmth to flood itself into her system. The string snapping her spine taut instantly buckled. Chakra flickering away at her fingertips, she relaxed into the touch, feeling the fingers slide over the crests of her shoulders and the gentle slope of her neck.

"Mmm…" she moaned, feeling her eyes roll back into her head as she pressed back into the chair and back into the expert hands she found herself in. Rolling her shoulder, Sakura turned her head to the side, her neck in open invitation as he squeezed her shoulder in a place that made her toes curl. Her lashes fluttered shut as she cooed, _"That feels nice…"_

In response, the fingers began working double-time and she could practically feel his smirk as his hands brushed and rolled over the curve of her neck and the slopes of her shoulders. When they focused on a particularly tense point at the base of her neck, she sighed and mewed at the gentle, lazy warmth of his palms.

"You know…you're not usually this affectionate…" she drawled, and she could barely suppress the lazy, knowing smile on her face as she asked, "This doesn't have anything to do with the broken vase I found in the drawer, does it…?"

Instantly, the fingers languidly running over the open collar of her shirt suddenly stopped, jerked, then multiplied their efforts on a particularly tense point on her shoulder blade. Her smirk curved boldly on her lips. _Gotcha._

The vase in question was a gift from her mother, a small teal glass thing as tall as a pencil with clear ornamental flourishes exploding from a porcelain base of teary-eyed puppies and a frosted glass crane in flight. It was, in short, a horrendous tacky thing—why her mother had thought it would make a good present, Sakura didn't know—and it was a point of agreement between the two of them.

However, it was still a gift from her mother, and dutiful daughter that she was, it would have to be kept. Unfortunately, she had been running late for her shift that day and left it at Kakashi's apartment with specific instructions to be careful with it until the next time she came over.

Of course, what she neglected to tell Kakashi was that she had been intending to throw the gift away anyway. If anything, he had merely validated her excuse. But it wasn't everyday that she got to see the famed Copy Nin squirm, and really, she should get something out of this if she was going to have to grovel in front of her mother later.

Reaching behind her, she grabbed his arm, jerking him forward as she rose in her chair, tucking her smile away in favor of a stern frown as she fisted the front of his shirt. At the end of her grip, Kakashi continued to blink at the sudden change in gravity. He had been planning on luring her into a state of ease before telling her about the broken vase, but nothing was going the way he planned—her finding out about the vase before he could tell her and getting thrown around like a rag doll only being some examples.

But it was her day off—a rare, joyous occasion—and Sakura was always in a good mood on her days off. Maybe she would be in the mood to be merciful?

Gaining his bearings, he met with Sakura's deeply-chastising stare. So much for that idea, and she must have sensed his disappointment because she raised a triumphant brow up at him. She smiled widely; her eyes were daring him to worm his way out of this, wondering what his next move was. Frankly, he was wondering that too.

Raising his arms up in plaintive surrender, he did the only thing he could do at that point. "You wouldn't hit a guy in glasses, would you?"

Sakura blinked in surprise, and both of them focused on the thin frames hanging crookedly across his face as if just realizing they were there for the first time. However, instead of having their intended effect—blushing, swooning, _letting him go_—Sakura instead shifted her grip on his shirt and let a corner of her mouth quirk up into a toothy grin.

"Actually, yes. Yes, I would. In fact, I did that just last week," she replied, recalling her recent mission where she punched a pair of coal circle-rims into the face of their child-trafficker of an owner. Gleefully, she watched as Kakashi blanched. Obviously, his plea hadn't gone as planned, and Sakura drew up her best sadistic smile as she balled her fist tighter into the front of his shirt. Her other hand, previously dangling at her side, now stood poised at the wings.

Arm raised, she cocked her hand back _and…_

"Wait! You wouldn't hit your future roommate, right?"

When her fist never came, Kakashi tentatively cracked open his eye to find her staring blankly through him. Dazedly, she looked around Kakashi's apartment as if she were in a dream. In the eight months they had been dating, the topic of moving in together had never been broached. It had always seemed like one of those things people talked about later in relationships if the subject ever came up, and honestly speaking, she thought they would never make it that far. Kakashi had never brought up the topic before after all, and had never given any hint about wanting to take things to the next level.

At a loss for what to do, she looked at him, searching his face for answers. If it had just been something that he had said in the moment, she wouldn't hold it against him. She just wanted to make sure he wasn't rushing into something he didn't want to. She was giving him an out. If he wanted to take it back…

But he never took it. It appeared that the proposal, however rushed and spontaneous it had been, was genuine. He was serious.

For a few tense seconds, they stayed like that: Sakura looming over him, staring, and Kakashi torn somewhere between anxious and hopeful for his personal safety. Slowly raising her head, the medic scanned the room, taking in the setting that had fallen away from her since this entire thing began. She looked at the plain, rumpled bed that she slept in when she crashed at his place; his dresser crammed tightly into the wall opening between the closet and door full of clothes, both his and hers; his window, the one she had entered from this morning; his desk…

Kakashi cringed as he felt himself being pulled back towards her, and braced for the impact that would almost certainly make a few molars loose.

"Alright, but we're moving into my apartment." Her apartment was the bigger of the two, after all, and as much as she loved Kakashi, she'd hate living in his closet of a room.

At her sudden declaration, the silver-haired nin blinked owlishly in return, not quite sure how to make sense of what just happened—what did just happen?

However, his surprise was short-lived as he found himself flung roughly into bed, his petite girlfriend following close behind. He blinked dazedly up at the ceiling, blood still rushing through his head at dizzying speeds.

However, that was soon solved by the arresting, breathtakingly devious look Sakura shot him from under her long lashes. Crawling over him, she fitted his hands to curve of her back and her hip, and smiled down at him impishly.

"Now, _roomie,_ where were we...?"


	6. Laugh Lines

Title: Laugh Lines  
Rating: K  
Genre: Romance/ General  
Word Count: 1,127  
Summary: Laugh lines are a sign of a life well-lived, and miles are best measured in smiles.

A/n: So ends the "Kakashi in Glasses" series for serenity-touched. Thank you for all the fans of this little endeavour, and I hope you enjoy its end! Happy birthday, Sakura!

* * *

Kakashi sits across from her.

They are in the kitchen, and the morning meal is still trailing off. The room smells of the coffee each of them nurses in their hands and the warm sunshine outside the window. A plate of half-eaten toast is growing cold by his hand. Underneath the table, Pakkun sleeps by their feet. While he says it is the most comfortable place to sleep, nestled atop a pair of warm slippers, Kakashi thinks it is merely to interrupt their morning routine of a post-breakfast game of footsy.

However, they do not mind, content to stare at each other over their mostly-full cups. He is dressed in his usual jounin-uniform, and she is covered by an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of sleeping shorts. Her hair is piled and pulled messily into a bun. Despite twenty-three years of practice, Sakura still does not do early mornings well, and she complains that it is unfair that he does not have to try hard to look good, and that she is hideous by comparison.

Of course, the notion is nonsense, and he tells her that. He thinks she looks fine—beautiful—gorgeous every day of the week, and the comment tickles her pink, making her flush to her toes in a pale rose slightly lighter than her hair. It makes her look like a flower in bloom, the color spreading out across her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders. Embarrassed, she hides her smile in her hands and refuses to look at him, instead muttering something into the echoing space of her fingers and palms. He can't make out what she says, but he can guess the sentiments all the same and smiles back, teasing, glowing, and unabashedly bright despite his mask where she is touched, hidden, and suddenly shy.

Eyes soft and heart warm, they make a perfect pair…

_"What are you looking at?"_

The voice brings him from his reverie, and somewhat distracted, Kakashi looks over at his wife.

"Oh, I was just doing a bit of dusting. Do you remember this?" he asks, sharing the photo between them. Head tucked slightly in, she smiles.

"Yeah, that one was taken by Naruto a while back." The blonde had been working on a personal project documenting the lives of Team 7—"they'll write books about the greatest team in the world some day. They'll need pictures!" he had declared—and had caught them at the end of breakfast with his camera in tow. At the memory, Sakura's smile grows a bit deeper.

But her dismay soon eclipses it. "Oh my gosh, my hair was so pink back then!" she exclaims as a worrying hand picks at tendrils to lament and wonder at.

Kakashi shares her inspection, taking in the white streaking through the pink. "You look fine," he reassures, just as he has done time and time again before turning his gaze slowly back to the picture in his hands. His thumb sweeps over the cleaned glass, and he takes in the sight of the two of them from younger days. Genuinely, he thinks Sakura is still as beautiful as the day this photo was taken. As for him…

His thumb washes over his face.

Catching the action, his wife leans over his shoulder and peers at him from the side. "You know, I think you look just as handsome now as you do in that photo," she comments. Kakashi sends her a dubious look from over his glasses, and she takes the opportunity to study her husband's face, studies what two decades have done to him.

The first thing she notices is his hair. Formerly silver, it has bleached rather than tarnished into a powdery-white like snow, but it's still as thick as the forest surrounding the village. Beneath her arm, she can feel Kakashi still, consciously unmoving to indulge her in her study. His eyes are no longer on the photo or the newspaper on the kitchen table, instead focused on the side of her face, and the eyes are what she moves onto next.

She meets his gaze at the corners, stolen from behind glass windows. Once upon a time, he had not needed such things, but the years have edged their way in, and he has been forced to wear them regularly since entering his mid-forties. However, like age, they do nothing to besmirch his good looks, the rimless eyewear only accentuating them to greater heights. The dark charcoal and deep-crimson of his gaze pierces her like lone smears of paint on a blank canvas; even the ever-so faint lines at the edges of his eyes only help the masterpiece. The years have been kind to Kakashi, and the only sign of age he has is the deep cut of a laugh line in his face, the price of too many days spent in happiness and laughter. The price is more than fair.

She runs a finger along the line, feeling it stir underneath her touch. "Actually, I think you're handsomer than ever," she amends sincerely, pressing love into his skin through the mask he wears, more out of habit than anything else. They've been together for years now; there are no more secrets to hide.

Leaning her cheek against his head, they peer at the photograph together, of love shared over the trailing remains of breakfast and lingered-on coffees. A moment from twenty-one years ago frozen in time.

"Did you ever think we'd get this far?" he asks suddenly, idly, curious.

Her smile curves thoughtfully around the space above his ear. "To be honest, not really."

"Are you glad we did though?" He tries not to, he tries to hide it and smooth it over, but a twinge of nervousness makes its way into his voice. Behind the calm veneer of his gaze lurks the high tense trill of alarm.

Her smile burrows into the crook of his neck this time. She presses a kiss to his lips. "Of course. Always," she answers truthfully, and the warmth pours off her words into his heart.

And it still lingers, even when she isn't there. Gone to answer the call of their daughter, he lingers in his seat alone, thumbing the photograph fondly. The shadow of her kiss still in his bones and her love in his blood, he quietly rises from his chair and exits the kitchen. With one final fond look on days gone by, he seats the photograph on the mantle amidst a sea of others: pictures of Team 7, weddings, their son, their daughter, graduations, and school events, memories of days since. His mouth curves in satisfaction as he studies the collection.

It's a life well-lived, he decides, and stepping away, goes to find his wife and join her.


	7. Pet Names

Title: Pet Names  
Rating: T  
Genre: Angst/Drama  
Word Count: 487  
Summary: It's a little known fact in Konoha, but Sakura has a fondness for pet names.

A/n: This was actually inspired by a fanart dimisfit made on her tumblr (link in my profile), so this one is for her. Or-I guess-"was" since everything I upload under Dresser Drawer is reposted from my tumblr.

* * *

It's a little known fact in Konoha, but Sakura has a fondness for pet names. "Sasuke-kun" was merely the beginning, and honestly, he thinks the Uchiha got off easy. Ino's title of "pig" is now a callous endearment between rivals, Neji is sometimes affectionately referred to in anecdotes as "negi," and as her boyfriend, Kakashi is called everything under the sun.

Animals seem to be a favored topic with a strong leaning towards puns and idiomatic phrases, as in recent memory she has called him "my dearie deer," "my silver fox," and "grumpy goat." In the back of his head, he wonders what's so wrong with his given name. Scarecrows may not be as cute, but they were practical and it was what was written on his birth certificate. What was more, he hated the pet names with a passion. They were annoying, and what was more, _they were embarrassing. _

Still, he doesn't have the heart to tell her this. It is a petty thing to start an argument over anyway, so he keeps quiet and tries to ignore the vague tendril of resentment growing in his chest.

However, that is before he gets word that she is finally back from her mission after three days without a word. Before he takes in the sight of her eye-patch, the splinted arm, and the bandages around her head. In his mind, the medical report fires off like gunfire: fractured ulna, fractured skull, surgery to remove shrapnel from her eye. Grimly, he thinks that they can be mirrors for their respective eye-injuries—what had been the word she used before? "Twinsies?"

It doesn't matter though. Nothing does, and the realization of how petty everything is and can be crashes on him like a collapsing building as the fact that she is alive hits him. _Really hits him_, because he never knew how close he came to losing her until Tsunade gave him clearance and briefed him of the mission details. _Explosion in a weapons factory,_and he knows how those three miserable, agonizing days nearly became just a drop in the bucket. (Only nearly though.)

Grateful, he sinks to the floor by her bed and tries to keep a firm, steady grip on her hand, but it's hard when there's a god-awful sob wracking his chest and shoulders. Gently, she scoops him into her lap, threading her fingers through his hair with her good hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, you silly goose," she softly chides from her hospital bed, and the annoyance he feels at her pet names becomes smaller and smaller until it shrinks out of existence, blinking out like a dying star. It was never worth it anyway, a fact that has only been magnified by the recent circumstances, and the fight is over before it even begins.

If it means her being alive and hearing her voice, he decides, she can call him anything she wants.


	8. Hokage sama

Title: Hokage-Sama  
Rating: T  
Genre: Humor/Romance  
Word Count: 427  
Summary: Sometimes, it was good to be Hokage.

A/n: Another response-fic for dimisfit (original picture link in my profile). Slowly cranking these things out so I don't seem too dead while I work on _Fix You_.

* * *

"Kakashi, a word."

The silver-nin paused, foot frozen mid-step in his path to the door as he wondered if his involuntary jerk had shown? There had been an edge to her tone that he did not like, and briefly, the Copy Nin debated whether to ignore or obey the demand.

Dutifully, he turned on his heel and deposited himself before the desk.

"Yes, Hokage-sama?"

"Your report is late. Again," his superior groused, an irritated brow ticking in time with her tone.

"Ah, yes." He chuckled nervously, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck in agitation. "Well, you see, I was on my way to doing it when—"

"Save it, Hatake," she snapped before releasing a sigh that sent her sagging over the wooden desk. "Kakashi, you can't keep doing this. We need those reports. _Promptly._" She sent him a meaningful look, hoping he would understand that these reports were key for issues of national safety, getting paid, and everything else that made her position annoying and difficult. (No wonder shishou had drank so much on the job.) She sighed; hopefully he would at least have the decency to look cowed.

Kakashi, of course, did neither, and a brief staring contest ensued. However, the battle of wills was soon concluded as Sakura sighed and covered her face with a perfectly manicured hand. "I guess I'll let it slide…_again."_

"Thank you, Hokage-sama." He began towards the door again.

"But…!" He stopped and looked over his shoulder, meeting her defiant gaze. "It's gonna cost you."

"And what would that be?"

Her lips twitched into a smile. "A kiss."

Kakashi feigned a scandalized look. "Are you suggesting that I bribe you, Hokage-sama?"

Sakura raised a brow in challenge. "Are you questioning an order from a superior?"

"No, Hokage-sama," he answered, and slowly tugged his mask down.

Leaning over the desk, she tipped up the rim of her hat and met him halfway, tasting the smile in his kiss. Pulling away, she reached over and buzzed the intercom on her left.

"Izumo, cancel my appointments for the rest of the day."

"Yes, Hokage-sama," came the grainy reply. Kakashi looked up from the box near his hip and arched a brow at his former-student.

"Am I finished, Hokage-sama?"

"I don't know. Are you?" came the reply.

Kakashi smiled rakishly. "Perhaps I have been neglectful in paying my respects lately. Allow me to remedy that," he answered huskily. Indulgently, Sakura leaned back in her chair and waited for her boyfriend to circle the desk.

Sometimes, it was good to be Hokage.


End file.
